


Keep the Wolf At Bay

by euphowolf



Series: Commissions For Charity [1]
Category: BanG Dream! Girl's Band Party! (Video Game)
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Futanari, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Restraints, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 15:55:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26770243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/euphowolf/pseuds/euphowolf
Summary: Perk of having a loving girlfriend #48952: someone's around to help address a particular symptom of your latent lycanthropy.
Relationships: Okusawa Misaki/Tsurumaki Kokoro
Series: Commissions For Charity [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1977358
Comments: 8
Kudos: 95





	Keep the Wolf At Bay

**Author's Note:**

> By reading this fic, you tacitly agree that you are at least 18 years of age. If you are not 18 or older, please hit back on your browser now.
> 
> This fic was commissioned by anon for a $30 donation to the Northwest Community Bail Fund for Black Lives Matter. Interested in getting one of your own while also contributing to a great cause? View my charity commission info [here.](https://twitter.com/rymmkon/status/1317764485034078208)

Misaki Okusawa’s entire world is aflame.

Every inch of her body burns with phantom thirst. She lies on her side at the bottom of the cage, glaring at the hateful bars through red-tinted eyes. There is a dull ache in her shoulder from when she threw herself at them only moments ago. It only fuels her blind fury. 

With a clinking, she sits up and flexes her arms against the rigid cuffs binding them behind her back. The iron digs into her skin even through the smattering of fur that has grown there. It’s the same, sturdy metal that encircles her neck and tethers her to the floor. Some distant part of her psyche whispers that her flailing is futile, but she ignores it and sizes up the bars in front of her once more.

The sound of footsteps arrests her mid-tackle. She pulls up short and cocks her head, sniffing the air. The scent her heightened senses picks up is sweet and inviting. Something in her stomach stirs, and her mouth, muzzled though it is, begins to water.

The scent makes her hungry.

The door opens, and light floods into the basement. Misaki instinctively backs away, growling and squinting against the brightness. When her eyes adjust, a vaguely familiar figure stands before her.

“Hi, Misaki! I’m home! Did you miss me?”

Misaki lunges at her in a whirlwind of bared teeth. Her opponent doesn’t even twitch. 

“Well, that’s not very nice of you.” She steps back and considers the raging Misaki. “Hm, you’re further along than I thought. I wonder if we can still do this?”

Her face is impassive as the werewolf thuds against the walls of the enclosure over and over. Misaki’s so bent on sinking her fangs into her that she doesn’t even notice the human inching closer. The next time she leaps, one of the woman’s hands shoots out, seizes the chain connected to Misaki’s collar, and pulls hard. Carried forth by the momentum, Misaki slams painfully into the bars with a yelp. 

The woman wastes no time. She grabs Misaki’s lower jaw in a surprisingly powerful grip and holds her steady. Misaki huffs and snarls, but the awkward position prevents further movement. 

“What’s my name?” asks the woman. She looks straight into Misaki’s eyes, and something about those fearless, gold-flecked irises makes Misaki still. As they continue to stare at each other, the scarlet fog in Misaki’s brain begins to dissipate. 

She opens her mouth to speak, and her voice is harsh and barely intelligible. “Kokoro. You’re… Kokoro.” Her girlfriend. The most important person in the world. 

Kokoro smiles and pats her cheek through the muzzle. “Good job! And are you going to hurt me if I let you go?”

Misaki shakes her head numbly. Kokoro nods with satisfaction and lets go of the chain. She withdraws an old-fashioned key from her pocket. 

“I’m coming inside,” she announces, and hums as she unlocks the cage’s entrance. One side of Misaki wants to warn her away; the other side wants to tear her apart. Caught between the two, she just slumps forward on her knees, trembling, as Kokoro eases the door open. The blonde stops short, however, and tilts her chin pensively.

“Oh, I like this outfit, and I don’t want you to rip it… Gimme a second.” And under Misaki’s disbelieving eyes, she begins to strip. 

Somewhere between Kokoro slipping her panties down long, skinny legs and pulling her blouse over her head, it all comes back. While Misaki was usually content to wait out her heat cycles in miserable privacy, Kokoro had insisted on a more hands-on approach. In a moment of pure weakness, she agreed to give it a shot. 

Now, as blood rushes to her groin at the sight of Kokoro’s bare body, she realizes how stupid she had been. The wolf inside her seems to cackle in anticipation.

“Kokoro,” she manages to spit out around a mouthful of half-grown fangs. “Bad… idea. Gotta stop.”

“No way,” is Kokoro’s cheerful but adamant response. She enters, now naked except for her long, shimmering hair. The door clangs shut behind her. “We haven’t even started yet! Besides…” Her gaze drops to the spot between Misaki’s thighs. “It looks like you don’t wanna stop either.”

Misaki looks down as well. Whatever rational part of her mind that’s left generates a wave of shame that rolls through her and makes her shudder. The worst side effect of her damned affliction stands ramrod straight. The fur she can suppress, the claws she can force back - as long as she’s sane enough. But this? _This_ doesn’t go anywhere until it’s taken care of.

“Misaki.” Misaki flinches and darts a guilty glance up. Kokoro smirks at her and slides her palms down the length of her torso in a suggestive manner. “It’s cold! You should come warm me up.”

She reacts too slow to stop the wolf. With a howl, it takes control of Misaki’s limbs and launches straight at Kokoro in an explosion of lust.

Thankfully, Kokoro is prepared. Faster than Misaki would’ve thought possible from a human, she sidesteps the attack and stomps down on the leash. It goes taut and jerks Misaki to a halt. She chokes on the sudden bite of her collar, and Kokoro uses the distraction to swing a fist straight into her solar plexus. For the second time in minutes, Misaki winds up on the floor, doubled over and wheezing for breath. 

Kokoro doesn’t wait for her to regain her senses. She throws her full weight onto Misaki, forcing her onto her back. She’s not very heavy, especially to a half-shifted werewolf, but before Misaki can throw her off, Kokoro reaches behind her and wraps her fingers around the shaft between Misaki’s legs. 

All the fight leaves Misaki immediately. The wolf croons with savage pleasure as Kokoro rubs up and down, its endless anger ebbing just enough for Misaki to regain her faculties. Kokoro uses her free hand to drag Misaki into a half-sitting position by the chain at her neck. She hasn’t even broken a sweat. 

“I wanna help, but you have to be good, okay?” Misaki nods, so quickly that it makes Kokoro smile. “Can I unlock the cuffs?”

Misaki freezes as she pictures the wolf ripping Kokoro to shreds with its claws. Kokoro, however, is already sliding off her stomach and shuffling around her. Once she gets an idea in her head, it’s impossible to deter her. 

The cuffs are fastened only by a single, powerful deadbolt that can’t be budged by the captive person (or monster). Kokoro slides it to the right and the restraints fall away, but Misaki keeps her arms behind her back. Her claws dig into her own elbows as she struggles against the urge to free herself. 

“Misaki?” Kokoro strokes the fur on her forearms in concern.

Misaki’s tongue barely works. “ _Danger_ ,” she rumbles, and tightens her grip, drawing blood.

“Hey,” says Kokoro softly. She turns Misaki’s head towards her, so that Misaki can see the conviction in her expression. “I trust you. You can do this.”

There is a strange prickling in Misaki’s skin as she feels the fur recede slightly. She sighs in the face of Kokoro’s eagerness; she would almost swear that her girlfriend actually _wants_ to get eaten alive. Still, she relaxes her muscles, one by one, until her arms rest loosely at her sides.

Kokoro claps in delight. “Hurray!” She swings herself back into Misaki’s lap and throws her arms around the werewolf’s neck in an excited embrace. Misaki hugs her back, albeit with far more trepidation - not least because Kokoro’s butt is pressing up against her bulge, and it’s all she can do to not let the wolf take over and ravage her. 

Kokoro’s fingers hook through the holes in her muzzle. “This, too?” she asks hopefully, but on that topic, Misaki is firm. She shakes her head, ignoring Kokoro’s disappointment.

“Aw, okay. Maybe next time.” Kokoro lets go and places her hands on Misaki’s shoulders. “Lie down?”

Misaki reclines back onto the floor. It’s a lot less uncomfortable with her arms out of the way. A shiver runs up her spine as Kokoro grasps her member again, and she cannot help but push her pelvis upward, seeking more.

Instantly, Kokoro’s grip turns vise-like. Misaki yowls in both hurt and confusion, but her girlfriend only squeezes harder. 

“Don’t move until I say!” she insists. When Misaki stills, she lets go and grins. “Good girl!”

At any other point in her life, Misaki might’ve protested at the way Kokoro is praising her like a dog. But right now, her throat simply goes dry as the other woman shifts back so that she’s positioned right on top of Misaki’s shaft. 

“Don’t move,” she says again, and Misaki nods frantically even as the wolf seethes and strains for release. They want it, they _need_ it, both animal and human in one accord, baying with desire -

Kokoro drops her hips down in one swift motion, burying herself up to Misaki’s hilt. 

Misaki almost shifts fully, right then and there. For a split second, she can feel the bones in her jaw lengthening, the tenuous threads of her reason fraying. She’s almost tempted to just give in, because wouldn’t that be easier? Easier to surrender, to sate her appetite in flesh and blood?

“ _Misaki_ …” Kokoro’s long, drawn-out whine is what brings her back. Her palms splay against the plane of Misaki’s abdomen, her face contorted in sweet rapture. 

“You’re so _big_ …” Her voice is awed and wondering. She gazes down at Misaki with half-lidded eyes, smiling. So close to death itself, and not a trace of fear in her. Because despite all common sense, Kokoro _trusts_ her. 

Adjusted now to Misaki’s girth, Kokoro begins to rock back and forth against her. The pace is slow and excruciating - not nearly enough to bring Misaki any amount of satisfaction. Sheer willpower alone stops her from bowling her girlfriend over and rutting her as fast and hard as she can possibly go. She settles for laying her hands on Kokoro’s knees, careful not to let her claws puncture the delicate skin. 

Gradually, Kokoro picks up speed. She bounces in Misaki’s lap, plaintive little whimpers falling away from her lips every time Misaki’s shaft hits a particularly weak spot deep inside her. Misaki can feel every clench of her walls, hear every slick sound of their coupling. The wolf screams at her in frustration and wrath, but it comes out of her as a guttural groan. The constant, insatiable heat in veins blazes higher, threatening to consume her completely. 

Hands scorch her chest. She opens her eyes - she didn’t even notice she had closed them - just in time to see Kokoro rake nails down her torso, leaving trails of flame in her wake. 

“You’re so pretty, Misaki,” she gasps between thrusts of her hips. _Pretty?_ Misaki scans her own body and sees the rippling fur, the dark length of her that disappears and reappears every time Kokoro moves. She is an _abomination_ , yet Kokoro is looking at her as if she’s the most beautiful thing on the planet. 

“Pretty girl,” Kokoro repeats, and then bends forward so that her face is right up against the leather webbing covering Misaki’s mouth. Her cheeks are flushed, her eyes bright and excited. “Do you want more?” she whispers, the strands of her hair tickling Misaki’s nose. “Do you want a turn?”

“Yes,” growls Misaki, and inside her, too, the wolf sings _yes, yes, yes_. She grips Kokoro’s thighs with monstrous fingers. “ _Please, yes_.”

Kokoro seems pleased with her answer. “Okay,” she says simply, and leans back. 

Misaki is up in a flash, not even pulling out of Kokoro entirely before flipping her onto her back and ramming back in. Kokoro shouts in pain, but she hugs Misaki close to her and wraps her legs around Misaki’s waist. Misaki’s shaft throbs with anticipation, but she still has _just_ enough presence of mind to stop. She pants into the crook of Kokoro’s neck, her senses suffused with the smell of the other woman’s sweat. 

Her long, questioning pause is sufficient enough. She feels Kokoro nod. 

“Go,” she says. 

The wolf comes snapping out of its cage and plunges into Kokoro with a triumphant howl.

Misaki pounds away at her with the wild, shallow thrusts of a frenzied beast. She can no longer even think about holding back, and now that it’s free, the wolf takes as much as it can. Kokoro’s cries, her writhing and shaking, only fuels its ravenous appetite. Yet, Kokoro herself meets every single movement with a moan of her own, and she braces herself against the werewolf’s shoulders so that Misaki can enter her at a deeper angle. They become a tangle of limbs, bare human skin chafing against bristly animal fur.

“I-I’m almost there,” Kokoro chokes out, once the friction between them has risen to an unbearable burn. She grabs Misaki’s head with both hands, and Misaki can see her eyes have glazed over tellingly. “Together?”

Misaki’s attempt to reply comes out as a terrible snarl. She increases her speed, dragging herself in and out of Kokoro in choppy, vigorous strokes. She can no longer tell how far she has shifted, if her hands have paw pads or fingers, whether she wears the lips of a human or the maw of a wolf. The pressure in her loins mount, and all she can focus on is her urge to empty it all out into the woman beneath her, her strange prey that begs to be devoured. She shoves further into Kokoro, desperate for release, grunting with exertion.

Kokoro scrabbles at Misaki's face and finds the straps of the muzzle. She pulls it off and shoves both her thumbs into Misaki’s slavering jaws, forcing them open. The tang of blood spreads upon her tongue as her fangs lacerate Kokoro’s fingers, but she can’t stop now, not when she’s so close, not when she feels so hot and eager and _hungry_. 

Kokoro smiles. “I love you,” she says, and she presses her mouth to Misaki’s snout. 

A dam bursts. Misaki groans and throws herself forward one last time, pouring herself into Kokoro’s crevices. Kokoro comes at the same time, her walls tightening around Misaki’s shaft as she quakes beneath the werewolf’s body. Misaki can already feel the wolf’s feral strength leaking out of her, little by little, and she slumps against her girlfriend with relief. 

It’s over. It’s finally over. The fur seeps back inside of her, replaced by the blessedly cool air of the basement. A vast exhaustion overtakes her paralyzed limbs, and her vision fades into darkness. 

The world tilts sideways, and Misaki knows no more. 

-

She wakes to fingers stroking her hair. Her eyes flutter open, and the first color she sees is gold. 

“Welcome back, Misaki!”

Misaki sits up slowly, shivering when the blanket covering her slides off her shoulders. She looks around, blinking, unsure at first of her surroundings. Then she notices Kokoro - or more accurately, Kokoro’s very apparent nakedness - and her cheeks color.

“God. You didn’t put on any clothes?”

Kokoro shrugs and grins. “You passed out! I couldn’t leave you alone. Besides, you’re naked, too.”

Misaki pulls up the blanket in a futile stab at modesty and prepares a retort. That’s when she spots the scratches and gashes scored deep in Kokoro’s skin. Her hand leaps out to trace the scarlet lines before she even realizes what caused them.

“Oh, _fuck_. Kokoro, Kokoro I’m so fucking _sorry_ -”

Kokoro catches her wrist to stop her. “Hey, it’s better than it looks. They don’t even hurt, I promise. More importantly…” She leans in. “How do you feel? It was good, right?”

Misaki shakes her head. “I’m… better. But look at you! This was a mistake. We never should’ve tried it.”

“I’m fine, _honest_!” Kokoro protests. She shoots a mischievous glance at Misaki and adds, “It was fun. I wanna do it again.”

“...You’re crazy.” Only Kokoro could narrowly escape getting killed by a giant, horny werewolf and call it _fun_. “I appreciate the help. But we really shouldn’t screw around with this.”

Kokoro pulls that stubborn look that Misaki knows too well, and Misaki grimaces. Before she can begin lecturing her girlfriend, however, the blonde suddenly shivers.

“Can we talk about this somewhere else? It actually _is_ pretty cold down here. We should, like, install a heater or something.”

It’s so unexpected that Misaki can’t help but chuckle. With a sigh, she throws the blanket around Kokoro and pulls her close.

“Come on. Let’s go back up. I’ll make you some food.”

Kokoro lights up immediately. She wriggles with joy as they stand up together, and before they're even halfway up the stairs she's compiled a list of dishes way beyond the scope of Misaki's culinary ability.

Misaki allows herself a brief moment of contentment. Monster that she is, perhaps she doesn't deserve this love, this honest and genuine affection is showered upon her like never-ending rain.

But Kokoro evidently thinks she does, and right now, that's enough to keep the wolf at bay.

**Author's Note:**

> happy belated bday misaki 2020


End file.
